Shots
by StormWingAlchemist
Summary: Malik Ishtar is back in Domino City due to his sister's job. Unfortunately, he has to get a flu shot. But at the doctor's office, he meets echoes from his past and comes out with something more than a sore arm developing. Angstshipping. Malik's POV.
1. Hello, Mister Ishtar

**Hi guys. This is my first fic ever, highlighting my favorite yoai paring ever. Jeez, this chapter's so short, but alas, alack, I had to publish it. Anyway, enjoy! Please submit feedback!**

**Malik: I can't believe you're making me get a stupid shot.**

**SWA: Shut up and say the line.**

**Malik: Fine. Yu-Gi-Oh! does not belong to StormWingAlchemist but she wished it did.**

**ALSO:**

**Malik, Ryo - hikari**

**Marik, Bakura - yami**

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"Ishizu, I do _not _need to go to the doctors." I grumbled, pouting immaturely.

"Yes, you do, brother." My sister said in that aggravatingly calm voice. Odion nodded his agreement.

"Please, Master Malik, it's only _one_ shot," Odion added, doing absolutely nothing for my mood. "I told you not to call me that anymore." I snapped out of sheer annoyance.

I hated the whole situation we were in. We were back in Domino (land of bad memories and regrets) just a year after Battle City because my sister was doing another exhibit at the museum here. As a result Ishizu, Odion, and myself had to live in a cramped apartment for about 14 months. _And, _to top it off, I had to enroll into Domino High so I have to face the people I had hurt so much. Not to mention, I had to go to the freaking doctors to get a shot for a flu that wasn't even prominent here.

"But, I hate shots. They always say 'This won't hurt a bit'. Everyone knows that's bull crap." I growled angrily as my sister pulled into the office's parking lot.

"Yes, well, we'll pick you up in twenty minutes." Ishizu said in steely finality.

Cursing to myself, I slid out of the car and trudged up the walk like a man to the gallows. The glass doors parted with a hiss and an overly perky desk lady gave me a coffee-induced smile.

"You must be Mr. Malik Ishtar!" Desk Lady bubbled, sliding a form across the table for me to take back to the check-up room for the nurse to fill out. I yanked it off the table, folded it across once and stuck it in my back pocket.

"Please, go sit in the waiting room. I'll take you back as soon as your nurse is free." I nodded, not really paying attention. I knew the drill. Plopping down on one of those uncomfortable plastic chairs that seem to be standard issue for waiting rooms, I surveyed the grey, drear, place.

A couple of snot-nosed kids were running around in circles, throwing Lego's at each other, their mother barely even taking notice. Hoping to maybe calm myself a bit, I turned my attention to the magazines piled haphazardly on the glass table. Unfortunately every single one of them was out of date by at least two years. Of course. So now I was tense, frustrated, and angry. Have I mentioned I _hate_ doctors? Ever since my first visit, every single one of them had made a business of staring at my back. Asking questions I'd rather not answer and bringing up memories I'd rather forget.

Desk Lady's voice broke me from my musings.  
"Mister Ishtar, your nurse is ready. Please follow me down the hall." I grumbled, but got to my feet out of the chair and followed the perky woman down the hallway she had indicated. Finally, she stopped in front of a door marked _106._

I had just a toe across the door's threshold when the woman grabbed my arm. "Your nurse is going to be our intern. But don't worry; he's amazing at his job." _He?_ " In fact, he gets a lot of recommendations from people with young children."

Wonderful. The person I'm getting a needle jabbed into my body from isn't even a certified nurse. Well didn't that just make me feel better about this whole stupid thing. Desk Lady left, closing the door behind her, and I heaved myself onto the table, trying to rumple as much of that annoying paper they put on as possible.

Two minutes and fourteen seconds later (I counted), room 106's door cracked open. My eye's widened. You have got to be kidding me.

"Hello, Mister Ishtar," a soft British voice said calmly as its owner entered the room.

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	2. Hello Kitty BandAids and Coffee

**I have decided that my chapters will be short, but more frequent. That cool with you guys? Anyways...**

**Hooray! Update! Honestly, I should've has this up way sooner, but I was busy procrastinating. I forgot to mention last chapter, this is post-canon and all from Malik's POV. Oh, by the way... Ryo, it's your turn to read the disclaimer.**

**Ryo: -_-U sigh... *monotone* SWA doesn't own Yu-Gi-Oh!, if she did, Angstshippers would be happy, Rebecca would be dead, I would've gotton more screentime, and it would still be airing on TV in all its cheesy glory.**

**FWA: C'mon! Say it with more feeling!**

**Ryo: *Pulls out hypo-needle***

**FWA: ugh... I mean... ON WITH THE STORY!**

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"Hello, Mister Ishtar."

I stared.

He stared.

I'm not entirely sure how long, but both of us just couldn't believe who was sitting right in front of us. Finally, Ryocleared his throat and looked down.

"Um… anyways… you're here for a flu shot, right?"

I think I said something intelligent like "Uhhhmmm…" It just didn't compute in my head.

_HOW? _Out of the thousands of people in Domino, out of the hundreds that worked in the medical industry, the _one_ person I least wanted to see ended up being my nurse. The one person who would be jabbing a needle into me. Apparently, someone upstairs didn't like me.

"Mister…Ishtar?" he asked again, a little more authoritatively, "you're here for a flu shot, _right?" That _snapped me out of it. "Um, yeah," I replied, not making eye contact with the kid I had very nearly killed a little more than a year ago.

I felt pleasantly cool hands take my wrist and extend my arm. The cold swipe of antiseptic against my arm shocked me out of my target-less gaze. What I saw was Ryo holding a large needle, poised to inject it into my upper arm. The sight, for some reason, terrified me and my whole body stiffened.

"Y'know, it's going to hurt more if you do that," Ryo said, placing a hand all my shoulder. At his touch, all the blood that had been a moment ago, been pounding loudly in my ears, was rushing up to my face. Jesus, what was _wrong _with me?

"Just relax, and I promise it won't hurt."

"Yeah, right," I snap, flicking my gaze to the opposite wall. Delicate fingers pushed the side of my cheek and gently eased my face back to its original position so I was forced to look into deep, brown, honest eyes.

_"_I _promise." _

Again, I felt my face heating a bit.

Ryo leaned in close, so I couldn't even see the needle, just the collar of his uniform and began to hum. It was a tune I had heard somewhere… maybe the radio or TV or- "You're done."

"…What?" I asked, stunned. There had been no sting, no prick of pain to alert my I had just been vaccinated. But there Ryo was, standing in front of me, with an empty hypodermic needle and one hand and the other busy leafing through a drawer for a band-aid.

Finally, he pulled out a selection of about three different types. "Purple, plain pink, or Hello Kitty?" he asked, a touch of humor in his voice. I pointed to the one that he had indicated as purple and while he applied it to my prick, I couldn't help but wonder how he had earned a job at a doctor's office at age _eighteen._

Ryo then asked it to fill out the paper I had been given earlier. He filled it out in silence before handing the slip back and saying, "You're due back here in about three weeks for a checkup," and ushering me out the door, telling me to give the completed paper to 'Mrs. Kiyo' which I assumed was Desk Lady's real name. I was just about to leave when four words slipped from my mouth. "We need to talk."

The white-haired intern stared at me, wide-eyed. "I'm off in about two hours, meet me at the café across the street." He choked, after an eternity and a half.

On that awkward note, I gave Desk Lady the paper, she gave me a lollipop, and left outside to wait for Odion and Ishizu to come back to pick me up.

He must have given me a shot because the familiar ache spread up my arm. That pain was about the only thing telling me this was some screwed up dream where you're in the only place in the world you don't want to be in, the host's of evil spirits you've partnered up with appear as your injectionist, and you just set yourself up on a date with said host.

Something told me, this was going to the most stressful cup of copy I was ever going to drink.

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**Wow... fail. I promise the next chapter will be better. And funnier. And more romantic. T_T Please review, regardless of slow plot and shortness.**


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